


(Sing Me) Something Good

by KorrohShipper



Series: Happy Steve Bingo 2019 [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Happy Steve Bingo 2019, Happy Steve Rogers, Post Avengers:Endgame, Serenading, Singing, Steggy - Freeform, Steve Rogers is a Doting Husband, Time Travel, domestic!steggy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 16:44:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21200867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorrohShipper/pseuds/KorrohShipper
Summary: In which Peggy wants to cuddle.





	(Sing Me) Something Good

**Author's Note:**

> Squares Filled: @happystevebingo - Serenade

“You need anything?

It all started, Peggy supposes, when she found out she was pregnant. The minute the realization sank in on her husband, whatever reverent treatment she had once been privy to her now paled in comparison to the level of attention he showered upon her. While with other men, it would have suffocated her without a doubt, it was far too different with Steve.

There was no question of her capability, not from the looks of admiration she constantly found him shooting at her direction when he thought she’d least notice it. Nor was there the male-ego complex and misconception that an expecting woman began to resemble a porcelain figure more than an actual human being; too precious and fragile to touch.

No, it wasn’t like that at all. Steve attended to her, yes, answered to her every beck and call, but it wasn’t patronizing. It didn’t make her feel like she was being sidelined and relegated to being a wife—if anything, the way his eyes beamed up and the extra jump in his every step, it felt like he was the one being indulged with every request as opposed to how it should be.

And naturally—_usually_—they were content with the arrangement.

But they were graced with a lazy Sunday morning and a silent phone that usually rang non-stop with people from SHIELD ranging from Chet Phillips and Howard to the Secretary of State trying to reach her.

It was blissfully and blessedly silent and Peggy found the prospect of lounging in bed, sinking in the arms of her husband was a rare luxury she hardly had but wouldn’t dream of giving up.

At least not in the moment.

So, the minute she understood the gleam in Steve’s eyes, she was ready to say _no_. If Peggy wanted a lazy day in, cuddling with her husband, then she’s going to damn well get it no matter the opposition—even if said opposition is her doting husband.

“Come on, anything, there’s got to be something you want.”

He was ready to pull away, slip out from underneath her but she tugged on his shirt, unwilling to let him leave the bed.

“No, stay.”

Steve looked like his mind was racing through a million thoughts. “Breakfast?” he mused out loud. “I could fix us some breakfast, even cook that ham you like.”

“Proper English bacon, mind you, you Philistine.” She playfully chided him, a hint of a smirk tugging on her lips as she refused to let go of him. “And honestly, idea of eating something only to regurgitate it immediately after doesn’t appeal to me.”

A worried look flashed on her husband’s face. “Are you nauseous? I can run around to that bakery, get that cinnamon bun that always sat well with you.” He offered, and she knew if she sad yes, he would do it in a heartbeat without a question, with no hesitation.

And as charming as it was, she really just wanted him to herself.

“Or I could go to the chemist—get something for the nausea,” a thoughtful look now nursed her eyes. “Or maybe the future, there’d be safer medicine there.”

Unable to help herself, she laughed. “Steve! You are not going to travel to seventy years in the future to get me medicine.”

“But you’re nauseous.” He whined weakly. 

“Just stay with me—it’ll be alright.”

He looked hesitant but remained in bed. She hummed her approval and he seemed to loosen up. “Maybe a pillow? Or an extra blanket, maybe—“

”Steve!”

He, at least, had the decency to look sheepish. “Just want to make sure you have everything you want.”

”I do,” she assured him.

But then a cold gust of wind from the air conditioning system managed to get a shudder from her and Steve nearly sprang into action.

“Alright!”

She laughed out, shifting her position so that she faced him. The welcome interloper in the form of their child kicked upon her enthusiastically. “You’ve woke him up.” She said pointedly as her husband’s eyes slowly flitted down to her midsection, which featured prominently a bump. “And your son is insisting that my bladder is gymnasium—convince him to stop.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Something good, I hope.”

There was a serious look on Steve’s face that looked almost comical. It was not unlike how he managed to look like when he planned missions back in Europe when the war was still raging His fingers cupped his chin, until he beamed and lit up, scooting down until he faced her swollen stomach.

Steve cleared his throat audibly with a cough. For a moment, Peggy thought he’d take on a deeper voice, like how the pictures once made him use and adopt the serious and brooding Captain America character the films play him out to be. The gravely serious face he had brought her back to the times he would stand up and rally the soldiers forward as he lead the charge to battle.

But he didn’t do that. None of the serious chauvinist Captain America character the bloody radio programme kept playing.

No—he sang.

It was soft and slow tune, one she’s never heard of and a part of her suspected it’s not from their time.

“_How long will I love you_,” his palm now rested on her stomach, kneading soothing circular patterns while his other hand played the tips of her fingers, the tiniest bit of them woven and intertwined. “ _As long as stars are above you_ —“ he met her glances, and the look of love and adoration that he sung shone so clearly and bright in his eyes, “—_and longer if I can_.”

Steve turned his attention back to her belly, pressing a kiss against the fabric that clung to her stomach and she could feel him lazily smile. Not that she minded, not when her lips mirrored the very same smile.

“ _How long will I need you? As long as the seasons need to follow their plan_ _._”

Then, he stopped for a mighty second. He pressed a kiss against the back of her hand before holding her palm against his cheek.

“_How long will I be with you? As long as the sea is bound to_ —“ she now understood why his voice hung low as he sung the song. It was his promise to her and their child, “—_wash up on the sand_.” A promise that no matter what the future will bring, what fragility their family had, he would not be torn apart from them. That he would, as he had, travel through time itself and will move heaven and earth if it means coming back to them.

“ _How long will I want you? As long as you want me to, and longer by far_ .”

Their eyes met with a solemn promise, words went unsaid but firmly understood with a squeeze from his hands and nod from her, tears falling shamelessly from her eyes.

“Bloody hormones. Honestly, not a moment of peace,” she muttered under her breath but with no real malice as Steve pressed another kiss against her stomach.

“_How long will I hold you? As long as your father told you, as long as you can_.”

Steve was about to start on another verse, but she couldn’t help herself. She tugged on his shoulder and brought him up to her side to press her lips against his for a lingering kiss.

They pulled away only when their lungs ached and burned for the need for air. She sniffles. “Thank you, my darling.”

Then, he had the nerve to look smug, looking utterly pleased with himself. “What you want me to serenade you, too?” but there was an underlying sincerity to it.

She nodded. “Please.”

Again, like he was the one being indulged, he smiled and pressed a kiss against her temple. 

“_Gladly_ .”

In the end, he stayed in bed and she got her wish.


End file.
